And then there were two.
With our final guests gone, there was only one thing left to do: get KORA safely to Leros, tuck her in for the winter, and somehow make our way back to Texas. Easy enough. Except apparently the Aegean wasn’t quite finished with us yet.
Our final run would take us from Naxos to Amorgos, then Kos and finally Leros – three long days on the water of roughly 10 hours, 10 hours and 7 hours, respectively.
Nine hours into the first day, we’d had enough. The wind was building, we’d been pounding through waves for most of the day, and continuing no longer seemed particularly clever. So we ducked into a tiny cove on the southern side of Amorgos, surrounded on three sides by at least 300ft high towering cliffs.
It looked like the perfect refuge. Looks can be deceiving! Rather ominously, our chosen refuge was called Voudomantra Bay – a little too close to “voodoo mantra” for comfort, as the night would soon prove.
Exhausted, we declared cheese and crackers a perfectly respectable dinner and, knowing the night could get interesting, reluctantly left the wine unopened. Good decision! We then sat back to enjoy the beautiful scenery that surrounded us.
After dark, the wind began tumbling down those enormous cliff faces and howling through the anchorage. With nothing but blackness around us, judging KORA’s movement became almost entirely about instinct: watching the instruments, checking our position, listening to the wind and asking ourselves repeatedly… Are we moving? Or does it just feel like we’re moving?
Dragging anchor here wasn’t an attractive option. Behind us were those rather substantial cliffs. Doug and I traded watches through the night.
At some point another exhausted sailor appeared in a Turkish flagged boat and picked up a small mooring nearby – too small for KORA, but sufficient for his 28ft monohull. His navigation light became our one comforting point of reference in the darkness.
Then, before sunrise… He disappeared. Thanks, mate!
At first light, the cliffs finally emerged from the darkness. I took photos, but – as always – the camera made everything look considerably more peaceful than it had felt at 2 a.m.
One final reminder from the Aegean: never underestimate the sea!
Putting KORA to Bed
The following passage to Kos was thankfully much kinder. I even managed to get some of our laundry done along the way 🙂 The highlight of this leg was entering Kos amongst a fleet of pirate ships.
The entertainment came as we approached Kos and found ourselves surrounded by pirate ships! Fortunately, they were pirates of the tourist variety, packed with holidaymakers and blasting party music across the water. Apparently modern-day pirates prefer cocktails and dancing to cannons and plunder. 😄
We refuelled, handled a few boat jobs and officially began the strange annual ritual of dismantling our floating home. Unused provisions found a grateful new home with a church missionary group, and for the first time all summer we treated ourselves to a laundry service.
Someone actually collected mountains of sheets and towels from KORA and returned them clean, folded and ready to store. Woohoo! After three months of boat laundry, this felt less like a service and more like winning the lottery.
Inside KORA, cupboards were emptied, supplied counted, and for the first time since we started our adventures, end-of-season inventories made. Every year I arrive carrying various toiletries and medicines that I am certain we’ll need… only to discover that apparently Past Karen had exactly the same idea. Tylenol? Plenty. Ibuprofen? Enough for a small clinic. Cold medicine? Several varieties. Sea sickness – we have enough meds to service a cruise ship. Haha! Sunscreen – apparently we’re prepared for the next decade. First aid – we’ve more than got our guests covered. Haha!
Outside, Doug scrubbed an entire summer of sunscreen, salt and Mediterranean living from the cushions while I deep-cleaned inside. Sometimes you even find a sweet surprise tucked down between the cusions! (Finders keepers, right?!?) Slowly, KORA stopped looking like the home we’d lived in all summer and started looking ready for her winter sleep.
Pulling into Leros felt a little like crossing the finish line – after a summer spent welcoming old friends and family back aboard, introducing new guests to life on KORA, discovering incredible islands, soaking up everything each little port had to offer, and embracing every adventure the Aegean chose to send our way – we had enjoyed (and survived) our summer adventures and made it safely to KORA’s winter resting spot.
However, before KORA could be lifted out of the water, she had one final challenge for us. The genoa, KORA’s foresail, had to come down before lift-out. Simple… Unfurl it. Lower it. Fold it.
Except every time Doug and I unfurled the sail, a previously calm breeze suddenly appeared as though Poseidon had been waiting specifically for us. At one point I had both arms wrapped around a rapidly inflating sail, hanging on for dear life while Doug attempted to tame the whole mess with bungee cords.
Attempt one: defeated.
Attempt two: defeated.
Eventually we discovered the real problem – the line had wrapped itself several times around the mast, high above where we could see it. There comes a point in boating when wisdom means accepting that someone else needs to go up the mast. Problem solved.
Then came the moment that made the end of the season feel real. KORA motored into the lift well. Slings were carefully positioned beneath her hulls. Slowly, our 40-foot home rose completely out of the Aegean. Up she went. Then onto land. Season three was officially over.
We vacuum-packed linens, stored cushions, finished the last jobs and closed the doors behind us. And then… We collapsed.
The Long Way Home
We had imagined spending our remaining time exploring Leros. Our bodies voted for Netflix. A little Airbnb near the marina became our refuge, although we did manage evening walks along the water and some lovely dinners.
We also discovered a cute little dessert café so good that we returned every single day. We may have been exhausted, but apparently there is always energy for gelato. Next May, Leros – we’ll explore you properly. And yes, dessert café, we’ll be back.
Getting home required one final endurance event: a 10½-hour ferry from Leros to Piraeus near Athens, followed by two flights from Athens to Houston via Chicago.
Ferry tickets at the time of booking were limited, with the only option remaining being open seating in “lounge” areas. Unfortunately, by the time we boarded the ferry, virtually every decent seat appeared to have been claimed. Albeit, many of those seats had been claimed by a pair of feet belonging to a sleeping passenger who had boarded the ferry at an earlier stop. Experienced passengers had arrived equipped with blankets, and, impressively, inflatable mattresses, for the overnight journey.
Eventually I discovered an apparently unclaimed airline-style seat. These need to be reserved in advance, but for some reason it lay empty. I plopped myself down, pulled my hoodie over my eyes, and went to sleep before anyone could tell me otherwise. Doug found one precious chair near the café and guarded it like beachfront property, apparently deciding a bathroom break wasn’t worth risking his claim.
The ferry arrived in Piraeus more than an hour late, making finding a transfer to the airport, an hour’s drive away, quite the priority. An Uber was called, and we ran to the meeting stop. We informed our driver that our flight was boarding in less than two hours and asked him to drive quickly but safely. Fortunately, he clearly understood the assignment and somehow, we made it. Even had time for a quick bathroom break!
Thirty-three hours after departing our AirBNB in Leros, we finally walked through our front door in Texas. Home. And it felt wonderful!
But somewhere around 6,500 miles away (10,500 km), KORA is sitting quietly on land waiting for us.
This summer brought new islands, old favorites, family, lifelong friends, new friends, wild weather, spectacular sunsets, ancient ruins, dolphins, turtles, octopus encounters, far too much gelato, countless OPAs – and more memories than we could ever fit into this blog.
There are a few things to sort out before KORA is ready to go again, but that’s a story for another day. For now, we’re home. KORA is resting. And somewhere between here and next May, we’ll inevitably start looking at the charts again and asking the question that begins every great adventure:
Where to next? ⛵️❤️
